My Same
by Lexicer
Summary: As naive and annoying as Morrigan says the Circle mage is, she's slowly realizing that the girl becomes more and more endearing with every passing day. Morrigan/Amell. Yuri.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I wrote this for a friend after he requested it as a joke AND I JUST RAN WITH IT. _:D _I HOPE YOU LIKE IT, BUTTERCUP._

_T-rated Yuri alert!_

_Disclaimer: Everyone knows that DA:O doesn't belong to me, but I did steal the title from an Adele song. Because I'm just such a bad-ass._

My Same

The Grey Wardens, three men (or boys as far as Morrigan could tell) and one girl, had been wandering the Korcari Wilds for hours. She observed them from the shadows, stepping in more darkspawn corpses and human remains than she cared to discuss. Lately, there had been many humans bumbling through the Wilds; it entertained Morrigan, though she would never admit it to her lunatic of a mother. There weren't normally this many people around, and Morrigan assumed that it had to do with the arrival of darkspawn and the king's men soon after. She had actually seen the king at the gate with his fellow soldiers. At first she was fascinated by his beauty, but soon lost interest as his inebriated state was apparent after only a few moments of his loud declarations of fortitude and general greatness. _"King Cailan of Ferelden does not fear these bewitched Wilds! They are mine to be tamed,"_ he said, waving a bottle of liquor; his men guffawed behind him. _"Children will sing songs of King Cailan's great feats in these woods. Just you wait, my good men."_ (Under the impression that _this_ was the King of Ferelden and the People of Ferelden were _okay_ with that, she quickly categorized everyone as Stupid.)

But these Grey Wardens were vastly different than the king's men. For one, they weren't drunk. Or at least they didn't appear to be. The little dark-haired thief, Daveth, was questionable, though Morrigan guessed that his meandering swagger was just a reflection of his arrogance.

Beside him, the large, balding companion, Jory, jumped at every snap, crackle, and pop the forest had to offer while constantly assuring them that he was not, in fact, a coward.

Then her attention turned to the handsome man, Alistair, who appeared to be guiding them; he was a bit too motherly for her tastes, always urging and reassuring his little Grey Warden ducklings, but she had a thing for blondes.

The only female in the group was a mage. Morrigan didn't quite know how she felt about that. Circle mages tended be incredibly naive yet this one seemed to be leading them. The girl was beautiful, Morrigan guessed, though she didn't really have much to compare her to. (She had her mother, but really...) Morrigan's assumption of the woman's beauty was confirmed by the men's subtle lingering gazes (or not-so-subtle in Daveth's case).

The mage couldn't have been older than nineteen. The men might not have noticed, but Morrigan knew; her eyes were too round, her face too full, and her body too petite to be those of a fully matured woman. Her clean yellow Circle robes and curious expression didn't help either.

This girl was the only one not covered in ridiculous amounts of blood; this was no doubt from her battle strategy. She would spot enemies ahead and send the men forward to deal with them (like trained dogs) while she lingered back, casting spells at a frantic pace; at one point, she even ran away screaming when the enemy charged at her.

"I was out of mana! I can't fend off a darkspawn with just my staff," she said when interrogated, her voice cracking. "It'd have cut me in two!" Morrigan would have called it weakness were it not for the girl's expertise in the magic department. Apparently the Circle wasn't _completely_ useless after all.

From what she overheard, they were searching for "long lost" treaties and darkspawn blood. The latter could have been easily acquired from the abundance of fresh darkspawn corpses surrounding them, but alas, no one was willing to volunteer for the job.

"C'mon, Daveth," the girl said, waving the vials at him. "We had to waste a poultice on you so now you get the great honor of gathering darkspawn blood."

"I ain't touchin' it!" he said. "Why can't Jory do it?"

"Look, we don't have time to waste on this. Just—"

"It'll soak into my skin and kill me!"

"Don't be such a mageling!" When he still refused to cooperate, she held the vials out to Jory. "You do it then."

He shook his head. "I have a family!"

"I have a..." she thought about it for a moment "...a Circle of Magi!"

"Those are not the same thing," he said.

"Oh, what do you know," she snapped. Morrigan rolled her eyes at the comment. It was too late then. The Circle had already poisoned her mind into thinking that it was _home_ and not _prison_. She turned to Alistair and said, "Can you do it or is that against some Grey Warden protocol?"

"Um...I think it's really something that you three should work out yourselves," he said, confused as to what the problem was to begin with.

"Of course it is," she muttered. Then with a deep breath, she popped the corks off the vials with her teeth and handed them to Jory. "Hold these. It's the least you can do for making a _lady_ do this sort of thing."

The three men watched as she bent down beside a permanently scowling darkspawn. Her nose crinkled in disgust. She stared at the creature for a long while before finally sucking in a breath and reaching her hands into the puncture wound on the thing's chest. She gagged, but continued on anyway.

"At least it's warm in there, right?"

"Shut up, Alistair."

o-o-o

Finally, after hours upon hours of wandering around the Wilds half lost, they stumbled upon the Grey Warden base and the cracked chest sitting conveniently in the corner.

"Oh, thank the Maker!" the girl said, running towards the wooden beacon of hope. "I want a hot bowl of porridge, warm cider, and sugar cubes to munch on when we get back."

"I'm gonna find that pretty girl I was talking to today and ask her if she'll keep me warm tonight," Daveth said with a snigger. "I'll woo her with my stories of the Wilds."

"I need to write a letter to my wife. She'll be so proud. She's with child, you know!" Jory said.

"That all sounds very lovely," Alistair interrupted before the enthusiastic girl could reply, "but this will all have to wait until we report to Duncan…"

"Well, Duncan's a reasonable man," the girl argued. "Surely he'll give us a few hours to ourselves. We need a rest before the battle, after all."

"I'd think he'd rather just get on with the Joining, actually."

They all fell silent.

"I thought _this_ was the Joining," the girl said.

"No," Alistair said, leaning from one leg to the other, "there's…a bit more to it. But Duncan will explain it to you once we get back."

Their entire beings seemed to droop. For a short while, they had forgotten about being Grey Wardens and were simply enjoying a battle-heavy walk through a tainted forest. Alistair had unknowingly brought duty crashing down on them as they remembered that they were not sent into these Wilds to become comrades, but to complete a quest: three vials of darkspawn and ancient treaties. Not porridge, babies, and one-night stands.

The girl took her staff and half-heartedly pushed the top off the chest before glancing inside. She sighed loudly. "The treaties aren't here."

They stood in defeated silence for a few more moments.

The girl ran a hand through her blond hair which didn't accomplish much since it was pulled back into a messy ponytail.

Morrigan found herself staring at those pale hands and wrists as they methodically ran through and around the girl's hair, more strands falling astray to frame her face.

It was then that the one not soggy leaf in all of Ferelden crunched under Morrigan's foot.


	2. Chapter 2

My Same

Chapter 2

Morrigan was not used to being caught off guard. She shape-shifted for goodness sake. She could pop from behind a tree as a giant spider (pointy pincers and spindly legs as terrifying as can be) and poof back into a witch (pasty skin and yellow eyes as terrifying as can be) in mere seconds. She'd followed them for hours without incident; how could something as insignificant as a crispy leaf destroy all those laborious hours of slinking (definitely not stalking) through the forest?

And now they were staring at her like _she_ was the incompetent freak which was ridiculous considering how many hours they had spent wandering around searching for something as stupid as "long-lost treaties." (If they'd already been declared "long-lost" then why would anyone bother looking for them?)

"Who are you?"

Morrigan snapped out of her frustrated daze and looked at the girl; she looked nervous, her fingers twiddling at her sides. "These are my Wilds," Morrigan said. "I get to ask the questions."

"Oh right, sorry," the girl said quickly.

Alistair sighed. "There's no need to apologize, Thalia," he said. "She doesn't own these Wilds. No one does."

"Oh right, sorry," she repeated.

"You own my heart though, baby," Daveth said looking up at Morrigan. "And my nether regions."

Morrigan blinked, scowled, and returned her attention to the mage.

_Thalia. A delicate, feminine name for a Circle _princess, Morrigan thought. She watched Thalia as she looked around at her companions, embarrassed by her ignorance. Lack of basic sense was one of the many woes Circle mages suffered. Morrigan wanted the prison burned to crisp. She'd had quite enough of pretentious robed bigots walking around with their noses in the air. And she was sick of watching their blond magelings trip over the foreign Ferelden soil.

Thalia caught Alistair's eyes and anxiously held his gaze. He flashed her a small, reassuring smile. She returned it gratefully, before blushing and averting her gaze. He had a similar reaction, a strangled giggle bubbling from his throat.

Morrigan's eyes narrowed.

Alistair was way far too big for Thalia. He looked like an ogre compared to her. No one wanted to be wooed by an ogre. And he was blond. As was Thalia. They couldn't be together. They'd look inbred and people would start to talk. The Incestuous Grey Warden Twin-lovers. That was what the public would call them. As if the Grey Warden's social standing wasn't bad enough.

The aforementioned ogre caught Morrigan's scrutinizing gaze. He managed to hold her stare for a short while, before, like most people, averting his eyes to his shuffling, muddy boots; Morrigan snorted proudly. "Might I ask who you all are and your business in these Wilds?" (She asked only because it seemed like the normal thing to do. Maker forbid they figure out that she'd been following them around all day.)

"I'm Daveth, and I'm in the business of love," the thief said. He licked his teeth and winked.

Everyone fell silent. "Does that mean you sell yourself?" Thalia asked, genuinely concerned.

"Well, I've never turned down a woman," Daveth answered, "or her sovereigns."

"That's disgusting," said Jory.

"Oh, you'll catch diseases like that," Thalia said. "You wouldn't believe how many salves I had to make for girls in the Circle."

"We're Grey Wardens," Alistair interrupted, "and we're on important Warden business."

Morrigan stared. "Oh yes, very important, I'm sure."

He huffed, glared quickly at the three recruits, and addressed Morrigan once again. "We're looking for the treaties. They're supposed to be here."

She looked into the chest and clucked her tongue. "It would seem that you're out of luck. Tis not surprising. Very few of the inhabitants here respect the Wardens' authority. By the looks of it, your treaties have long since been removed."

"'Long since been removed'?" Alistair said. "Oh Maker...those treaties are Grey Warden property, and I _suggest_ you hand them over."

"I shall not for I do not have them," Morrigan replied, irritated by his assumption. "Do not talk down to me when you know not my name, less so who I am."

Alistair said, "I know you're an apostate. And apostates are _bad_." ("I think apostates are sexy," Daveth said; Jory promptly elbowed him in the ribs.)

Thalia sunk into a shallow crouch. "Apostate," she spat.

Something flared in Morrigan. In these situations, she normally just brushed the blind prejudice off, rolling her eyes and making a snide comment before taking her leave. But upon seeing Thalia's puckered, serious face, distrust in every crevice, her heart ached. Bile stormed in the pit of her stomach. Strange. She thought only her mother could make her feel this way.

Pushing the feeling aside, she took a moment to collect herself, her head held high. "How typical of a Circle mageling and a Templar. Do you make a habit of judging people based on what little you know? I suppose tis foolish of me to be surprised. You may be Grey Wardens, but you are only human."

"You say that like you aren't," Alistair said.

"Well, you are treating me as such." Morrigan paused. "I did not live as a Templar slave and now I am undeserving of common civility?"

She looked directly at Thalia; the girl blinked and slowly rose from her stance, keeping her eyes low.

"Magic is used to serve man," Alistair quoted. "Not rule him."

"She never said she wanted to 'rule' us," Thalia said suddenly; she fidgeted under his aghast gaze, but continued nonetheless. "Who wouldn't choose a life a freedom given the choice?"

"Yes, but Thalia, she's not like you," Alistair said. "She's...Chasind."

"I like bad girls," Daveth said.

"Not all Chasind folk are bad," Thalia squeaked. "I read about them in the Circle library. Not all of them eat babies." She took a deep breath and looked up at Morrigan. "Have you...ever eaten a baby?"

Morrigan stared. "No."

"Oh thank the Maker," Jory said.

Thalia released the breath and grinned. "Well, there you have it! Let's just put this all behind us then," she said quickly. Before Alistair could argue, she continued, "My name's Thalia. These are my friends, Alistair, Jory, and Daveth. As we established, we're looking for Grey Warden treaties. Do you know where they are?"

Morrigan was flattered by Thalia's politeness. Her other friends didn't treat her as such. Then again, her other friends consisted of a pack of wolves. "My mother has them."

No one spoke for a long while. "You're joking," Alistair said.

"What is there to joke about?" Morrigan asked.

"Your _mother_ has them?"

With a sigh, Morrigan said, "Yes, my mother has them. Did you think I spawned from a log?"

"A _sexy_ log," Daveth said.

"Will you be quiet?" Alistair snapped.

Thalia said, "Can you take us to her?"

Morrigan considered for a moment. It would have been wiser to ignore them; leave them to wander back to the Ostagar gates and never see them again. But as Morrigan looked down at Thalia, her blues eyes wide and hopeful, doubt planted like a seed in the back of Morrigan's mind. Thalia may not have been able to _completely_ ignore Morrigan's Chasind ancestry, but she didn't let that rule her judgment either, not for long at least. She had already shown Morrigan more kindness then she was accustomed to, especially from Circle mages. Morrigan normally didn't feel compelled to show the same courtesy. But she found that she wasn't quite ready to leave this girl's side. Not yet anyway.

"That's a reasonable request, I suppose," Morrigan replied. "Follow me if you wish."

She turned and sauntered down the hill.

"She wants me," Daveth said after a few moments.

"Daveth, shut up."

"She wants to cook us in a pot and eat us. That's what she wants!" Jory said. "Are we really going to follow her?"

"If she wanted to kill us, she would have done so already, right?" Thalia said. "Besides there's not much else we can do is there?"

They fell silent.

"I suppose," Alistair said.

The silence continued until Morrigan heard the swish of robes approaching fast. Thalia soon appeared at her side, slightly out of breath.

"Not much time for physical activities between prayers and Templar beatings?" Morrigan asked.

"Well, I climbed a lot of stairs!" she said. "I just didn't do much running."

Morrigan smiled until she saw Thalia grinning back at her. She quickly wiped it away and trudged ahead, leaving Thalia jogging to try and stay at her side. Eventually, she gave up with a sigh and fell back to match Alistair's slow lope; Morrigan released a breath she hadn't realized that she'd been holding.

o-o-o

"Oh, you should stay here forever. Those Wardens can find another mage to fight those damn darkspawn."

"If I could, I would! This has been so much fun!" Thalia giggled and beamed at Flemeth.

Morrigan, along with the other three Wardens, stood rigid with their arms crossed. Never had Flemeth taken to such a girl. Thalia's ditzy and blunt charm had the old hag cackling within moments of their meeting.

It drove Morrigan mad. How could Thalia connect with her thousand-year old demon-mother when Morrigan couldn't even stand next to the girl without getting strangely irritated?

"Yes, we'd all love very much to stay and chat, but we have Grey Warden matters to attend to," Alistair said, his irritation obvious. Apparently, Morrigan wasn't the only jealous one in the group.

"Well, go kill some darkspawn then come back as soon as you can," Flemeth said. "We'll have a cup of tea before you leave on your next mission. And I'll teach you how to properly pick deathroot. Those pretty hands won't survive much longer if you keep just _grabbing_ it."

Thalia laughed and clapped her hands. "Yes! I'll be back soon!"

"I'm sure." Finally, Morrigan heard it, the underlying threat in her mother's voice. She had witnessed this scene many times between her mother and her various men. Flemeth didn't play nice for just for the sake of it. Her smiles held a sinister undertone, an ulterior motive always dancing behind her eyes. Morrigan looked at Flemeth's old face, and she saw a plan.

"Night is starting to fall. Let us make haste and return you all to your precious Wardens," Morrigan said, eager put as much space between Flemeth and Thalia. "Don't let the stew burn while I'm gone, mother."

Flemeth's face darkened. "Don't chide me, child."

Thalia jumped at the sudden malice in her voice. Suddenly alert, Alistair took a step toward Thalia, his fingers twitching for his sword.

Morrigan just smiled, her lips thin. She knew better than to give her mother a reaction. "My sincerest apologies. I didn't mean to offend. I'm simply sick of eating burnt squirrel stew."

Flemeth looked at her daughter hard before grinning at Thalia. "I don't know why I'm surprised. I raised her this way."

She laughed, and Thalia followed suit, though she kept her eyes on Morrigan; it didn't go unnoticed by either Chasind witch.

"Let's go," Morrigan said, taking Thalia's wrist and pulling her away from the hut.

She looked back to see her mother staring at Thalia's back. Flemeth caught Morrigan staring and their eyes met; Morrigan saw the plan unfolding in her mother's mind. She instinctively reached down and held Thalia's hand, grasping it tightly and leading her away from that dreadful place and her mother's plan.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Ahhhh sorry it took me so long! I'm really slow at updating. Like...REALLY SLOW. Such is the woe of having the attention span of a squirrel. I'll try to get the next chapter up faster. Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter! _:3


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